He Didn't Ask
by djenie
Summary: This time he didn't ask. A little angsty, a little hopeful. Sam/Jack


**He Didn't Ask**

This time he didn't ask.

For years he'd been asking her to go fishing at his cabin with him, each time bragging about the size of the fish, or the remote beauty of the place, or just pointing out the chance to get away. At least a couple of times a year he drove or flew up to the cabin. One time he tried to entice her by offering to let her pilot the small, sleek plane he borrowed from a friend for the trip! Oh, she was really tempted that time! Another time Daniel, Teal'c, Janet and Cassie were all going, and he said she should come because there was gonna be a party.

It had become a ritual of sorts; he asked, she declined, he joked and cajoled, she held her ground, he put on that final 'this is your last chance' look and she laughed and said no. He conceded, saying 'You don't know what you're missing.' She said 'Enjoy.' He waved good-by and she turned back to her lab, secure in the knowledge that she'd done the right thing, but warmed by the satisfaction of knowing that he'd wanted her to go.

But this time he didn't ask. He didn't even say good-bye. He just went.

It was early in the afternoon when she realized she hadn't seen him all day—he never went that long without visiting her lab. When she ran into Daniel later she asked if he'd seen the Colonel.

"He didn't come in today. He planned to leave this morning to go to his cabin. Didn't he tell you?"

"I guess he couldn't find me." She made an excuse and hurried away, hurt and disappointed.

She worked through the rest of the day, concentrating on the technology in front of her, but in the back of her mind was the hurt. Yet that really didn't make any sense. If he'd asked she would have refused, just as she had each of the dozen or so times he asked before...

Then why should it hurt? Why did she feel this little knot of disappointment just below her breastbone?

Was it because he didn't observe their 'ritual'? Didn't play the game? After all, it was part of their interaction... their 'relationship.'

_Wasn't it?_

She'd always thought so.

But maybe he didn't see it that way... Maybe for him each invitation was a new opportunity, a hope that she might accept. Not a game or some kind of silly ritual at all. Maybe he was hurt a little every time she said no. And now he's had enough. He's decided not to give her the chance to say no to him again.

If it hurts her this much the first time he doesn't ask, how much more must it have hurt him when she refused the fifth or eighth or tenth time...

She put the doohickey away. She was done for the night. She got her coat and backpack, didn't bother to go to the locker room and change out of her BDUs. She headed for the elevator and made the ride to the surface. It seemed longer than usual tonight.

When she reached the outdoors, she was surprised to see that it was snowing. Hard. The parking lot was six inches deep. That morning when she came to work it had been sunny and in the forties. She hadn't even listened to the weather report. Obviously a storm front had moved in; the temperature felt like the mid twenties. She shivered as she hurried to her car, glad she hadn't ridden the Indian today. There was ice under the snow. It must have rained first.

She got in and started the car, turned up the heat and defroster, and let it run while she tried to clear snow from the windows. Without gloves, it wasn't any fun; she didn't even have a scraper or brush in the car yet. She pulled her sleeves down over her hands and held them there for protection. The ice on the windshield was thick and stubborn. After a little while she got back in the car to get warm.

She was warming up in the car for the second time when someone began scraping the back window for her. Evidently somebody had the presence of mind to have the proper equipment handy! She got out to say thanks and discovered it was the Colonel.

"Sir! I thought you'd gone up to your cabin."

"Not in this mess, Carter. I turned on the weather channel this morning before I started getting ready to leave. This system was supposed to pass south of us, and be rain. There was something about the high pressure over Canada breaking up... I don't understand that stuff." He gave a self-deprecating shrug. "I decided it wasn't worth it. Came over here and spent the last couple of hours doing paperwork." He grimaced. "The way this looks, I'll probably just take my down time at home."

"I'm glad you're not driving in the storm, sir," she said. "Sorry your trip got called off, though. I know how much you like going to the cabin. Thanks for cleaning my windows." She glanced up at the snow. It was coming down so heavily now that the edges of the parking lot were invisible. The lights simply couldn't penetrate. "I hope the roads are plowed."

"Probably aren't," he said. "Do you have your winter tires on yet?"

"No. I thought I had a little more time. It's only the first week of October!"

"Let me give you a ride home. I have a feeling the streets are gonna be nasty."

"It's so far out of your way, sir," she protested.

"Well, if it's too awful when we get to your place you can invite me to sleep on your couch. Get your stuff."

She grabbed her things from the car and followed him toward his invisible truck.

"You wouldn't have to sleep on the couch, sir. I do have a spare room." she said with a giggle.

"Yeah, but is there a bed in it? Last I heard it was just a mattress on the floor."

"Who told you that?"

"Daniel. Said he slept on it one night. Wasn't too comfy."

"That was when I was waiting for the new bed to be delivered. It was only for a few days. I'd already gotten rid of the old one. There's a bed in there now."

"Oh, good! Your couch is way too short for me."

They had located the truck and he opened the door for her, then got in himself and started the engine. "Let me warm up for a minute and then I'll clean off this beast," he said. "My tires are studded. We should be fine."

"Yes, sir."

After a few minutes he got out to work on the windows, insisting that she wait inside. Through the falling snow she could see him moving from driver's window to windshield and finally to her side window. He braced one hand against the glass while he scraped with the other. His fingers were just at her eye level. She put her hand up on the inside of the glass, matching her fingers with his. The warmth she felt was not from the truck's heater, but was because he was only a glass-thickness away. When she raised her eyes, she saw that he was looking in at her. For a second their gazes locked, then he grinned and went back to work. She sighed.

If he ever asks her again, she will go.


End file.
